


Sheet Happens

by violetvaria



Series: Stable AU [17]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Bad Jokes, Bad Puns, Family, Family Shenanigans, Fluff, Gen, Halloween, Jack and Diane are engaged, No Plot/Plotless, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Stable AU, brief allusions to future Riley/Bozer, dad!Jack, silliness, small amount of Jack/Diane, teen!Mac, tiny amount of Mac/Katie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 06:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21249125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetvaria/pseuds/violetvaria
Summary: “Here’s a boo-quet for you!”Mac glared at his lunch. “Stupid ghosts.”Bozer and Riley exchanged puzzled looks.“Okay, I need you two on Team Bat,” Mac announced.Bozer froze with a French fry halfway to his mouth. “We’re what now?”“Jack is ghosts. I’m bats,” Mac said, as if this explained everything. “You in?”~~~plotless Halloween silliness, featuring horrendous puns and a bit of family bondingset in dickgrysvn's Stablehands + Stable Homes AU and alongside slightly_ajar's Stable AU





	Sheet Happens

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stablehands + Stable Homes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294171) by [dickgrysvn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dickgrysvn/pseuds/dickgrysvn). 

> Thanks, as always, to the gracious and talented dickgrysvn for creating and sharing this AU! It is essential to read her amazing story [**Stablehands + Stable Homes**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294171) because life is better for having read it!
> 
> This lighthearted bit of nonsense was inspired by the delightful and brilliant slightly_ajar and is set one year after her phenomenal [**Written in the Cards**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21159494), to which many references are made. Reading [**Written in the Cards**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21159494), which details Jack and Mac's first Halloween as father and son, prior to this is HIGHLY recommended!
> 
> WARNINGS: extremely mild Jack/Diane (a few kisses), one kiss between minors (Mac/Katie), and a skeleTON of really, really bad jokes (I apologize in advance). I also apologize for the title. I'm going to say that Jack made me do it. Happy Halloween!

Mac plopped down at a lunch table in the cafeteria, opened his insulated lunch bag, and moaned.

“You all right?” Bozer asked around a mouthful of chicken nugget.

Mac shook his head. “Oh, this has gone too far.”

“What?” Riley leaned forward, trying to peer into Mac’s lunch bag, snagging one of Bozer’s fries at the same time.

Mac pulled four items out and lined them up on the table.

Bozer frowned. “What’s with the ghosts, man?”

“That’s the problem!” Mac groaned.

Taped carefully to the top of each container was a small die-cut ghost, something that elementary-school teachers would use to decorate their classrooms, perhaps. The ghosts were smiling, and each bore a little note in spiky handwriting that Riley thought looked vaguely familiar.

_“Enjoy the boo-berries!”_ This seemed to be some sort of yogurt parfait with—Bozer peered a little closer—bananas and blueberries in it. A baggie full of carrot sticks admonished, _“Remember to exorcise in P.E.”_ Bozer picked up the next container.

_“Have fun in eekonomics class!”_ Bozer pulled off the lid. “What are these?”

Mac sighed. “Silver-dollar pancakes.”

Riley snorted, but she swiped a finger along the edge of the tiny packet of syrup.

“How much time did your dad put into this?” Bozer asked in both admiration and dismay.

“Too much,” Mac said acidly. He shoved away a handful of sticks of beef jerky that had been tied together. _“Here’s a boo-quet for you!”_ Mac glared at his lunch. “Stupid ghosts.”

Bozer and Riley exchanged puzzled looks.

“Okay, I need you two on Team Bat,” Mac announced.

Bozer froze with a French fry halfway to his mouth. “We’re what now?”

“Jack is ghosts. I’m bats,” Mac said, as if this explained everything. “You in?”

“What’s happening here?” Bozer muttered _sotto voce_ to Riley.

“Mac, what’s going on?”

Mac had returned to scowling at his food. “I was ahead until now, too.”

Riley perked up. “What do you win?”

“You just _win_,” Mac said blankly, staring at his almost-sister as though _she_ were the one making no sense.

“Okay, bro, _how_ do you win?” Bozer was used to the twenty-questions version of collecting information that Mac thought was obvious but really wasn’t to those around him.

To his surprise, Mac hummed uncertainly. “Well, we never really talked about the rules,” he hedged.

Bozer sighed. “All right, dude. Maybe you need to start at the beginning.”

~~~

It had started October 1. Jack had already been talking about Halloween for two weeks, so Mac wasn’t overly surprised when he woke up on the first of the month and discovered a tiny paper ghost on his nightstand. On the back, it said _“Peek-a-boo, I love you!”_

Mac rolled his eyes and smiled, tucking the little message into a drawer in his desk. Trust his dad to be all sappy like that.

The next day, he found a ghost in the pocket of his jacket. This one said _“I’m here for you if you’re feeling boo.”_

That afternoon, Mac made a run to a school-supplies store and picked up a collection of smiling vampire bats. They were too dark to write on, which was fine. He left one on Jack’s pillow, a silent reciprocation of affection.

Things had snowballed from there.

Every day, there were more ghosts and more bats. There was a ghost on the coffeemaker when Mac stumbled over in the morning to fill his mug. There was a bat on the hall mirror when Jack leaned against the wall to kick off his work boots.

Jack no longer wrote a note on each one, and though they never spoke about it, there was the distinct scent of competition in the air. Mac did the dishes and put a bat in all of the cereal bowls. Jack did the laundry and stuffed a ghost in each of Mac’s socks. Mac tucked a bat inside the freezer, knowing he didn’t need to say anything for Jack to work out that vampire bat plus ice equaled frostbite. Jack put a ghost on Mac’s bathroom mirror that said, _“You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”_

Because they studiously ignored the topic with each other, neither could be totally certain of the rules, but Mac was pretty sure quantity was a factor, possibly with bonus points for creativity. He had been congratulating himself on the five bats arranged like a squadron of fighter jets on the outside of Jack’s bedroom window until he discovered the ghosts that had taken over his lunch.

~~~

“So…you’re sticking ghosts and bats all over the house and trying to see who can do it the most?” Bozer still sounded confused.

“That is totally ridiculous,” Riley declared. “I’m in.”

“Bozer?”

Bozer shifted his gaze guiltily between his two friends. “Well…”

Mac narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me he got to you.”

“He asked me on Saturday!” Bozer held up his hands. “He wanted me to put one of those weird little spooks in my car. I said no.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Riley pressured. “You wanna be Team Ghost?”

“I don’t want to be team anything!” Bozer protested. “I don’t want to get involved with this.”

Riley huffed, but Mac just looked disappointed. “Fine.”

“Besides, isn’t it cheating to bring in another person?”

Riley rolled her eyes. “See, now that I know what’s going on, I can say my mom has already been recruited. Guess which side.”

Mac shook his head. He should have known Jack would rope his fiancée into this. He was a little surprised but not displeased that Diane was going along with it.

“So what’s our next move?” Riley’s eyes were shining. “Or maybe we shouldn’t talk in front of Mr. Potential Traitor here.”

“I’m not involved!” Bozer yelped.

Mac grinned and leaned forward. “So I’m thinking bats flying down from the ceiling, maybe in the bathroom.”

Riley nodded thoughtfully. “What if we unscrewed the lightbulbs so it’d be dark when all the bats came flying at him?”

Bozer just shook his head as his two friends high-fived.

That evening, Mac was quietly ecstatic when he heard a surprised shout from the master bathroom. In the end, he’d left the automatic nightlight plugged in. Riley had argued against it, making the case for pitch-dark, but Mac had held firm. He didn’t want his dad to think he was being attacked and break something or injure himself fighting off an invisible enemy. He didn’t share that logic with Riley, but she finally agreed that the dim glow of the tiny lightbulb in the corner made for an appropriately spooky atmosphere.

“Problem?” Mac asked innocently when Jack returned to the living room.

“Nope.” Jack’s voice was calm, but his left eyelid was twitching a little. “Go ahead and start the movie.”

“Okay. It was my turn to pick, but I think you’ll like this one.” Mac started _The Dark Knight Rises_.

Jack shot him a dirty look but said nothing.

Mac was pleased with himself all the way up until he went to bed and noticed that Orion’s belt, part of the larger constellation stenciled to his ceiling, had been covered with precisely placed ghosts.

The silent war raged on. There were ghosts tucked between the pages of Mac’s textbooks. There were bats tied together in a garland across the headboard of Jack’s bed. Jack opened his computer to discover the background was a picture of a bat. Mac pulled on his favorite pajamas and noticed a fabric ghost had been stitched onto the pocket.

They tacitly called an uneasy truce the week before Halloween when Jack decided it was time to decorate the house. This year, Jack had invited Mac to help pick out the pumpkins for carving, claiming he needed help lugging the giant orange fruits.

“Because you’re getting old?” Mac asked sweetly.

“Watch it, little boy, or me and Diane won’t let you come along when we go to the Halloween fair.”

Mac actually did want to go—it was a treasured memory from their first Halloween together—but he couldn’t resist teasing a little more.

“You mean you won’t let me come with you on your date?”

Jack scowled. “You don’t take kids with you on a date. It isn’t a date.”

“But you are dating now.”

“No, we’re…fiancing.” Jack frowned. “Fiance-ing? Engagement-ing?”

Mac groaned. “None of those are words.”

Jack huffed. “If you’re so smart, how come I’ve got a better pumpkin than you?”

“We don’t have any pumpkins yet.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got my eye on the best one.”

They selected three pumpkins each, chatting and teasing amicably as they did so. Mac understood what his dad was doing, and he was grateful. Jack wanted to involve him in his Halloween traditions as much as possible—even more than last year when everything had been new to the teen—and he also wanted some one-on-one time with his son. Mac had noticed the more time he spent with Diane, the more intentional Jack was about finding time to focus just on Mac. Or, as Jack put it, “carving out some quality father-son time.”

“_Carving._ Get it?”

Mac rolled his eyes. “I got it, Jack.”

Bozer was invited over for the carving of the pumpkins. He’d pitched a fit last year when Mad had casually mentioned that they’d thrown out the “pumpkin guts” that had been sitting in the freezer for a month. For weeks, Bozer was prone to darkly muttering “pumpkin muffins!” or “pumpkin pie!” or sending imprecatory texts to both Mac and Jack that said merely “pumpkin soup!” or “pumpkin bread!” Neither Dalton wanted to repeat the experience.

If Bozer noticed the ghost stuck in the corner of the kitchen or the bat hovering near the knife block, he didn’t comment. Nor did he say anything when Jack and Mac showed off their first carvings—the ghost was a little blobby, and the bat’s fangs were unrealistically long, but Bozer _was not involved_. He had already drawn the patterns for the rest of the pumpkins, more traditional jack-o-lantern faces that were a good mix of silly and scary.

Diane and Riley came over to catch the tail end of the pumpkin carving. Diane had insisted that Halloween was not complete without caramel apples, and Mac and Jack readily agreed to starting a new tradition since they were eager to eat the luscious treats. However, Diane apparently believed that simply making the apples was not enough. First, they had to work for them.

“We’re bobbing for apples?” Mac asked in disbelief. He had never done that in his life—wasn’t even sure how it worked.

They’d invited Katie to join them, and somehow the four teens were divided into two teams—boys versus girls. As Jack and Diane laughed and took pictures and videos, Mac, Bozer, Riley, and Katie splashed and shouted and managed to grab precisely zero apples in the time allotted. Except for Riley, who was scarily efficient, apparently the only one of the four who had bobbed for apples any time in the past ten years. Bozer refused to stick his head underwater, Katie’s hair kept falling into her eyes, and Mac kept trying different angles to figure out the best way to catch the slippery apple with his teeth. He never did find it, but when he met Katie’s eyes after the girls had been declared the winners, thanks to Riley, she smiled shyly, brushing wet tendrils out of her face, and he smiled back, feeling a warmth in his chest that offset the chill from his drenched shirt.

And then Jack was wrapping him in a towel, passing another to Bozer, and that was a glow of warmth too, and Mac let his dad dry his hair for a moment longer than he normally would.

They cleared away the buckets of water and the small bruised apples and made the most decadent candied apples Mac had ever seen. There was caramel, there was marshmallow cream, there was white chocolate and milk chocolate and dark chocolate, there were coconut flakes and multicolored candy sprinkles, there were crushed peanuts and almond slivers, and there were M&Ms and candy corns to top them off.

When their guests finally left, taking a good share of the apples with them, Jack and Mac collapsed on the deck for a while.

“Hey, kid?”

“Hmm?”

“There look like more skeletons than there used to be?”

Mac opened his eyes. “What?” He studied their Halloween tableau. There were bats hanging from the porch on the left side and ghosts on the right, but amid the witches and spiders and black cats and monsters and jack-o-lanterns that they had carefully arranged on haybales, there were some skeletons.

“How many did you put out?”

Jack shrugged. “I dunno. One or two. You?”

Mac frowned in thought. “I’m not sure. I think I was mostly doing the zombies and the glow-in-the-dark stuff. One of those was a skeleton.”

“Yeah? ‘Cause I’m counting…six right now.”

Mac eyes his dad sourly. “If this is—”

Jack held up his hands. “I swear it wasn’t me. S’pose they’re multiplying?”

“Jack,” Mac sighed.

“And how do I know it wasn’t you?” Jack reached over to poke Mac’s ribs. “You’re practically a skeleton your own self.”

Mac shoved his dad’s hand away. “It wasn’t me.”

“Hm.” Jack studied him for a second and then nodded. “Well, then, I guess we’re left with four suspects.”

Mac shrugged. “Unless someone snuck onto the porch while we were inside.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Jack frowned thunderously at the relatively new alarm system, which had been turned off, clearly wondering if there were a way to turn on just part of it.

“But it was probably Diane or Riley or Bozer or Katie,” Mac said hastily. “No harm. Just a silly prank.”

To Mac’s relief, Jack let it go, but he did insist on sweeping his son’s room before he went to bed, checking the closet and under the bed while Mac snarked at him about monsters. At least Jack didn’t insist on tucking him in, settling for a hug and quick hair ruffle before he headed for his own bedroom.

When Mac found the ghost under his pillow, he would have felt a lot more duped except for the bat he’d managed to tuck into the back of Jack’s belt as his dad was mussing his hair.

They went shopping for candy for trick-or-treaters together, piling the cart high with all their favorites, fully intending to have leftovers. And if a bag of marshmallow ghosts and a box of bat-shaped brownies were also tossed in, who really minded?

The Halloween fair was as fun as Mac remembered. More so, in fact, now that any lingering resentment of Diane and Riley had been overwhelmed by the joy of having them as part of his family. They recreated their parents-versus-kids battle on the bumper cars, finally calling it a draw after four rounds when the ride operator started to give their antics the stink eye. Jack won another fuzzy bear on the Strong Man game, presenting it to a blushing Diane.

Mac didn’t ask too many questions about their relationship, and Jack didn’t say much other than the casual offhand comment, but Mac knew his dad had started gifting Diane with a holiday-themed bear every few months. After that first Halloween bear a year ago, there had been a Santa bear, a Cupid bear, a Saint Patrick bear, and an Uncle Sam bear; there was a bear dressed up like a turkey already tucked in Jack’s closet, waiting for Thanksgiving this year. Riley had confided that Diane had them arranged chronologically on her dresser. The girl had attempted to sound scornful and patronizing as she spoke, and anyone else probably would have bought into her projected attitude. But Mac heard the underlying awe that a man could treat her mother so tenderly, could offer her presents not as an apology, not to make up for hurting her emotionally or physically, but just as a token of affection.

Mac had been proud of his dad then, and remembering that he’d vowed to try to say things like that more often, he stumbled over his words as he told Jack that evening that he was impressed with the way he showed Diane respect and appreciation.

Jack’s eyes crinkled with pleasure. “Well, thanks, son. I mean, not like I’ve got much choice in this case, ‘cause if I step outta line, I’m sure Riles would manage to make my Social Security number disappear or somethin’.” As Mac shook his head in fond exasperation, Jack turned serious, reaching out to gently grip the back of his son’s neck. “Dalton men are gentlemen, you hear me? Don’t think I need to say this, but you ever treat Katie or Riley or Diane or _any_ woman with anything less than respect, and we’re gonna have a problem. Got it?”

Mac felt a tiny shiver snake up his spine, but he nodded solemnly. “I promise, Jack.”

Mac had thought about that conversation for a while, eventually bringing it up to Katie. She deemed the sentiment sweet, if a bit old-fashioned, and said it was better to treat every _person_ with respect. Then she’d grinned and added, “Unless they’re douchebags, of course. Then all bets are off.”

That was another reason Mac liked her.

Mac had a try on the Strong Man game as well, something he wouldn’t have dared a year ago. His hammer struck solidly, and though he didn’t ring the bell, he made it high enough to win a candy ring, which he planned to give to Katie next time he saw her. Assuming he didn’t eat it first. Jack’s proud grin was a better prize than a stuffed bear anyway.

All four rode the carousel, taking silly photos and pretending to be trick-riding. Then Jack and Diane seemed to want to ride again, and Mac and Riley made a hasty exit. He talked her into going to see the fortuneteller—not Lady Yana this year, which disappointed Mac a little, but someone called The Magnificent Cosmo whom Riley found hilarious.

The Daltons and the Davises parted ways at the fair’s exit, and Jack hummed the entire drive home.

“Have a good time?” Mac asked, smiling slightly.

“Mm-hm.” Jack probably didn’t realize he was still alight with happiness. “Nothing better than time with family, right?”

“Yeah,” Mac agreed, studying his dad affectionately. “Nothing better.”

“Son of a—” Jack cut himself off.

“What?” Mac whipped his head toward the porch as Jack pulled in the driveway. “Oh.”

“That’s all you can say? They’re taking over, kid!”

“Jack, that’s kind of an exaggeration.”

“No, it’s an invasion!”

Okay, so there were definitely more skeletons on the porch now than there had been earlier that day. But Mac would hardly call a dozen plastic intruders an _invasion_.

“It’s kind of funny, Jack,” he tried to placate.

Jack wheeled on him. “Did you know about this? And kid, I swear, if I find out you’ve been lying to me…well, you ever heard the Halloween version of ‘The Boy Who Cried Wolf’?”

Mac shook his head frantically, holding up his hands. “Jack, I _told_ you it wasn’t me. I don’t know anything about it. And you promised not to try to tell that story again.”

“_Try_? I tell that story great!”

Mac bit his lip to keep from laughing as a thought occurred to him. “You know what? You’re right. I bet Riley would love to hear it. Complete with sock puppets.”

“Hmm.” Jack looked thoughtful, mumbling something about black pipe cleaners that could be formed into curls, but he didn’t comment further on the skeletons, so Mac had no regrets about throwing his soon-to-be-sister to the metaphorical wolves. She’d probably find a sock-puppet version of herself funny anyway. Or possibly irritating. But that wouldn’t be Mac’s problem.

As the final days of October ticked down, more accomplices were drawn into the ghosts-versus-bats feud. Mac gave Cassi a Halloween-themed Kinder Joy egg, and the girl beamed and handed him a familiar paper ghost in return. Jack ran in to grab takeout from Larry’s and discovered a paper bat inside the bag, courtesy of Katie.

But every day, more skeletons appeared, larger ones lounging on the porch, smaller ones peeking out from under bushes or perching on windowsills, paper ones taped to the truck or the front door. Jack was getting twitchy, and even Mac was studying his friends suspiciously.

“Are these bags of bones driving you _batty_?”

Mac sighed. “It’s weird, but they aren’t _haunting_ my dreams or anything.”

Jack snorted appreciatively. “We’re gonna figure this out.” He shot his son a look. “Actually, the genius should get on that. I’ll take over once you give me a target.”

“What are you gonna do, Jack? _Ghost_ whoever’s doing it?”

“I bet it’s Dr. Amanda,” Jack announced suddenly.

Mac nearly choked on a chocolate that had been wrapped in foil to look like an eyeball. “_What_?”

“Yeah, it’s always the person you least suspect, right?”

“Um, she’s definitely the last person I’d suspect,” Mac agreed slowly, fighting back laughter.

“Plus, she’s a psychologist. Spends all her time with crazy people. Present company excluded.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“So she might have a few bats in her belfry.”

Mac groaned. “Do you have any theories that _aren’t_ boneheaded?”

“Well, yeah, but you keep shooting down the notion of undead promulgation.”

“Procreation.”

“So you admit it _is_ possible!”

Mac buried his face in his hands.

When Halloween finally arrived, Mac found he was looking forward to it immensely, but not in the same way as the year before. Last year, he didn’t really know what to expect, and the holiday had unexpectedly brought up a lot of memories that he’d rather stay buried. He’d been excited, but there had been a thread of unease weaving through most of the season as well.

This year felt different. Exciting, but not in that adrenaline-producing way because Mac had a better idea of how the evening would go, and missing that knife’s edge of anxiety that threatened to dilute his happiness. He wasn’t sure if Halloween was his favorite time of year now, since every holiday—every _day_, really—was so much better with Jack than it had ever been with James, but it was definitely a top contender.

Oddly, Jack seemed to have caught his son’s mood from the previous year, becoming more reflective and contemplative in the days before Halloween. On the day itself, Mac caught him looking at photos from last year and staring blankly at the living-room walls.

“Jack?” He ventured finally. “Are you—what are you thinking about?”

Jack smiled at him wistfully. “Nothin’ much.”

“Oh, so everything’s normal then.”

“Smart aleck.” Jack tossed a throw pillow from the sofa at him.

Mac ducked easily. “Come on, Jack. You’ve been quiet all day. What is it?”

“Ehh.” Jack stretched. “I was just thinkin’ about…y’know…last year.”

That clearly wasn’t all. Mac waited.

“We had fun, didn’t we, bud?”

“Yeah,” Mac agreed cautiously. “It was great. We’ll have fun again this year.”

“Yeah, ‘course we will. And next year…” Jack trailed off, looking again at the walls, abruptly changing the subject. “Diane wants to get a family portrait. Y’know, one of those professional ones where everyone dresses up like it’s a funeral and sits like a statue so they all look like they’re made of wax or something.”

This was news to Mac, but he wasn’t overly surprised. “You don’t want to?”

Jack shook his head. “No, I like it. Just…wondering how it’ll look. All framed and hung up and everything.”

Mac tried to imagine it too. “It’ll probably be nice,” he offered.

“Mm-hm. It will. Just…things are gonna change around here, huh? When they move in.”

“Um…” Mac blinked, unsure how to respond.

“It’ll be good,” Jack assured quickly. “Just different.”

“Well, changes can be good.”

“Yeah? Where’d you hear that?”

“From you.”

Jack grinned. “I’m gonna miss havin’ you all to myself.” He stood and grabbed his son in a bear hug. Mac let him.

Mac relaxed, something inside unexpectedly easing. He was looking forward to their family growing, but there were some things he would miss. He was glad he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“Last Halloween as a single dad,” Jack murmured into Mac’s hair, sounding as though he’d forgotten he was speaking out loud.

“It’ll be a good one, Jack,” Mac promised. “And next year will be a good one too.” And it would be, if Mac had anything to say about.

“Yeah, you’re right. Of course you’re right. I’m just…thinkin’ about the past instead of the future.”

“You can think about both, you know.”

“Well, right now, maybe I should think about the present. Get ready for all those goblins hunting for candy.” Jack tipped Mac’s head forward slightly so he could reach the top of his head to plant a kiss there. “You ready for costumes?”

Mac was glad he’d chosen the costume he had. “Yep. You’ll really like mine.”

“All right, let’s _boo_gie. Yours won’t be as good as mine, though.”

Mac tossed him a “challenge-accepted” grin and raced off.

“You ready, kid? Costume reveal on three, all right? Three, two, one…now!”

Both Daltons leaped into the hallway at the same time, took one look at each other, and burst out laughing.

“Who—what—” Mac couldn’t finish the question.

Jack straightened up, attempted to paste a serious expression on his face, and lowered his voice. “I’m Batman.”

Mac giggled even more. “So the Dark Knight came over to the dark side, huh? Welcome to Team Bat.”

“Don’t think you’re in any position to talk,” Jack chuckled. “Who are you supposed to be? The ghost of Halloweens past?”

“I’m Casper the Friendly Ghost, of course.”

“Ah. Of course.” Jack’s gaze softened. “Team Ghost and Team Bat united, huh?”

Mac shrugged, eyes shining. “We’re better together, right?”

“Yeah, kid. You got that right.”

“Besides, Team Bat already won.”

Jack’s jaw dropped. “Not a chance in—how do you figure that?”

They continued arguing playfully as they collected their mounds of candy and waited by the front door. They didn’t have to wait long. It seemed word had gotten around last year that they were generous in the handfuls of candy tossed to gleeful trick-or-treaters, and Jack and Mac were kept busy admiring costumes and doing their part in giving the neighborhood kids massive sugar highs.

Cassi came by with both her parents and her baby brother.

“Hey, star!” Jack exclaimed. Then he frowned, glancing at Helen. “Isn’t that…”

“She wanted to wear it again this year.” Helen shrugged in a “what-can-you-do” gesture.

“Percy’s a ‘met!” Cassi burbled happily as she accepted candy from Mac.

Jack scowled. “Your brother is a Mets fan?”

“No, no,” Matthias broke in hastily. “He’s a _comet_, remember, sweetheart?” He held up his young son, who was sleeping soundly and dressed in something that indeed could have been a plush comet. Or a baseball that had gone through the washer. Or a dirty gray blob. Jack preferred the simplicity of Cassi’s five-pointed star costume, even if all the glitter hurt his eyes as it caught the light.

Mac began enthusing with the astronomy professor over an upcoming meteor shower while Cassi talked Jack into another handful of candy, “for Percy.”

“Good luck,” Jack whispered to Helen, winking.

She just smiled back. “Yours will probably eat even more than mine, so I should say the same to you.”

Jack chuckled. “All right, we don’t need luck. We’ve got great kids.”

During a lull in the trick-or-treating, Mac took a minute to marvel at the house again. It still felt like a balm on an almost-forgotten ache that he lived in a place where Halloween was not only tolerated but embraced. And it thrilled him that Jack had taken many of his suggestions as they were decorating.

He decided not to comment on the four new skeletons, but Jack was following his progress as he wandered around and spotted them at the same time Mac did.

“What the—?!”

Jack took a deep breath, and Mac could tell he was gearing up for a long-winded rant.

“Hey, here come Diane and Riley,” he interjected, thankful for the distraction.

Until the pair stepped into the bright circle cast by the porch light, and Jack and Mac got a look at their costumes.

“Wha…” Jack was speechless.

Mac wasn’t. “It was you two? Together?”

Mother and daughter smiled smugly, modeling their matching skeleton costumes.

“You were supposed to be Team Bat!” Mac all but howled at Riley.

At the same time, Jack found his voice. “Holy sheet! You said you were on my side!” he accused Diane.

Riley smirked. “You know, you’ve got to bone up on the rules. Alliances change. You just feel what’s right in your bones, so don’t say you have a bone to pick with me.”

Jack’s stared at her, mouth open. “Okay, now I’m too proud of you to be mad.” He recovered his composure, grinning mischievously. “Fortunately for you, I don’t have a mean bone in my body.” He turned to Diane, who had sashayed closer, a knowing smile on her lips. “And you…look _way_ too sexy for me to be mad at you.”

“Eww.”

“Gross, Jack.”

They ignored their kids, sharing a kiss under a small plastic skeleton bobbing from a string above the door.

“Just wait ‘til there’s mistletoe,” Jack breathed against his fiancée’s ear, and she laughed softly.

Mac and Riley shoved their parents inside while they dealt with the next round of trick-or-treaters. Jack and Diane emerged soon after, Jack grinning like a jack-o-lantern and Diane flushed and breathless, just in time to see Bozer leading his posse of neighborhood kids.

Mac had duly complimented a Wookie, a Spiderman, a princess, an alien, and a unicorn when he finally got a good look at his best friend.

“You were in on it?” he shrieked.

Bozer looked sheepish, shuffling forward in his skeleton costume, but Riley lifted her chin triumphantly.

“What happened to being impartial? To not getting involved?” Mac asked.

“Riley talked me into it,” Bozer said helplessly.

“He wanted to,” Riley insisted.

Jack crossed his arms and tsked. “And now he has the gall to come begging for candy.” Jack tutted again, shaking his head slowly. “Not a good look, Boze. Talk about a fair-weather _fiend_.”

“Yeah,” Mac chimed in, also crossing his arms and attempting to look stern. “No candy for traitors. Go eat the pumpkin _bat_-ter we gave you. _Bone appetit_.” Without looking, he bumped Jack’s waiting fist with his own.

“I had to make the batter myself from all that pumpkin pulp,” Bozer said dryly. “And Riley has candy.”

“Hm. Whaddya think, kid? We bend the rules this one time?”

“I don’t know, Jack. Not to cast casper-sions, but I’m not sure we can trust him again.”

“True. Had us all worked up and suspectin’ good folk like Dr. Amanda.”

Four pairs of eyes landed on Jack.

“That was just you, Jack.”

Jack shrugged unrepentantly.

“Come on. I’ve walked about a hundred miles with these guys.” Bozer waved a hand at the children who were dancing impatiently at the end of the driveway. “I’ve gotta get something for that.”

“You’re right, Bozer,” Riley announced, stepping forward and offering him a handful of candy. He beamed brightly at her.

“Happy Halloween!” He darted off while Jack and Mac glared at Riley.

“What? He was a cute skeleton.”

Jack’s expression changed so fast Mac didn’t have time to anticipate his next words. “Maybe I gotta have a talk with Bozer.”

“About what?” Mac asked, genuinely confused.

“You know, stuff. Life in general. How to treat young ladies. How to treat young ladies whose dads own guns. And knives. And—”

“Okay, easy, tiger,” Diane soothed as Riley blushed deeply. “Plenty of time for that later. Isn’t that Katie?”

Riley turned thankfully and waved at their friend. Katie waved back and allowed her new puppy to gambol forward, tail wagging.

Mac bent to tousle the pup’s ears, laughing. “Are you Pebble?” He took in the green doggy dress with black spots and the tiny plastic bone stuck in the fur between the dog’s ears. “_Flintstones_. Nice throwback,” he said as Katie and her young cousins approached.

As Jack stifled an exclamation, Mac looked up and froze. His eyes narrowed. “And what are you supposed to be?” he demanded.

The children giggled happily, bouncing in their skeleton costumes.

“I play the trom-_bone_!” a small one announced, waving the play instrument.

“I’m the humorous bone!” The way the child’s nose wrinkled as he gestured at the giant happy face on top of his skeleton costume showed he didn’t really understand the joke but had faith in his older cousin.

The largest of the small troop struck a pose, one hand tucked in her shirt, canting her head to show off her plumed tri-corner hat. “I’m Napoleon Bone-apart!”

Mac tried to remain impassive as Jack guffawed behind him.

“Uh-huh. And who’s that?” He pointed at the smallest child who had fallen asleep in the stroller.

Without missing a beat, Napoleon said, “She’s a lazy bones.”

This time, Mac couldn’t keep a straight face. Diane and Riley were giggling maniacally, and Jack was nearly choking on his laughter.

“And who are you?” Mac finally looked up at Katie. “_Bone_-adict Arnold? Traitor,” he accused but without heat.

She curved a smile at him. “Diane and Riley…_recruited_ me.”

“Didn’t think she’d have the _guts_,” Riley piped up, looking pleased with herself when Jack gave her a high-five.

“So you decided to be a _backstabber_?” Mac cocked an eyebrow.

She shrugged, uncowed. “I figured, how many opportunities do I have to get one over on the genius? You usually see _right through me_.” She stepped forward and pressed a gentle kiss on Mac’s lips. “Plus, you’re cute when you’re surprised.”

Mac flushed red to the tips of his ears as Jack hooted. Diane hid a smile as she began distributing candy to the children holding open their bags hopefully.

Katie stepped back. “I need to get them home. It’s getting late.”

“And they’re probably bone tired,” Jack added, lighting up when the tiny skeletons determined that was a joke and began laughing hysterically.

Katie waggled her fingers at Mac as she herded her cousins away, the puppy tumbling along beside them.

Trick-or-treating wound down after that, and Jack led the way inside, everyone carrying several packages of candy.

“All right, team, huddle up.” Jack clapped his hands. “Time for a pep talk.”

“Oh, no,” Mac grumbled. Riley shot him a puzzled look. “You’ll see.”

“So this year was good. A little un-boo-lievable, but good.”

“Told you,” Mac mumbled nearly inaudibly to Riley.

“Everybody was in good _spirits_, but it could have ended up much worse. After all, some of us got a late start—” Jack gestured vaguely at Diane and Riley. “—so it was sort of a wraith against time.” He ignored the increasing volume of the groans from the teens.

“Please tell me this isn’t going to continue,” Riley begged in an undertone.

“Oh, it’ll probably get worse before it gets—before it stops.”

“But…” Jack shot Mac and Riley a stern look to get their attention. “If we wanna have a ghost of a chance of making it through next year, we need to have a plan.”

Mac couldn’t help himself. “You mean we shouldn’t just _wing_ it?”

“Nice one, son.”

Riley looked askance at her almost-brother, who shrugged in return. “It sort of sucks you in after a while,” he whispered.

“So I say we get our sheet together and work as a team next time.”

“Team Skeleton!” Riley piped up, unable to resist. “Jack, you can be a lumbar-jack.”

“Told you,” Mac muttered. “It sucks you in.”

“And Mac can be a _skull_ptor,” Diane added, earning a cheer from her daughter.

“Okay, I like the team _spirit_,” Jack conceded. “But maybe something completely different.”

“But, Jack, where’s the fun if we’re all doing the same thing?” Riley protested.

Jack frowned. “Halloween is about family,” he reproached. “About bonding. About unity.” After a pause, he added, “_Christmas_ is for competition.”

“Maybe we can think about our costumes next October,” Diane suggested.

“Your pep talk hit a _dead end_, anyway,” Riley needled.

Jack glared at his family. “Can’t tell if y’all are fiends or foes,” he griped.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s the start of a boo-tiful fiend-ship.” Mac smiled slyly. “Do I get double points for that one?”

“All right, you dingbat.” Jack looked at his son affectionately. “We’ll drop it for now, but don’t think we won’t come back to it.”

Diane started urging Jack toward the kitchen, saying something about the kids needing food that wasn’t ninety-percent pure sugar and offering to order barbecued _spare ribs_.

“Come on, Team Dalton,” Jack called over his shoulder to the teens. “Time to eat, drink, and be scary.”

Riley groaned as she fell into step beside Mac. “We don’t really have to team up with _that_, do we?”

“It’s a pretty good team,” Mac said thoughtfully. “I think you’ll like it.” Then he grinned. “But for Halloween? No way. It’s every man for himself.”

“You mean every _ghoul_ for herself.”

Mac laughed hard enough that Jack and Diane turned from the kitchen doorway to stare at the doubled-over teen.

“Welcome to the team,” Mac gasped when he could finally breathe. “You’re going to fit right in.”


End file.
